


A Real Truth

by ALCzysz17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Consensual Sex, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forced Marriage, Joffrey forces them to consummate the marriage, Joffrey forces them to wed, Only Dubious because Joffrey is forcing them, Public Consummation, Really Cousins, Sansa's POV, Sibling Incest, Slightly dubious consent, Underage/Sansa's sixteen, lots of smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26278849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALCzysz17/pseuds/ALCzysz17
Summary: Joffrey promises her that he will show the traitors of Westeros, Robb Stark and Stannis Baratheon a real truth to the spreading rumor of his mother’s incestuous relationship with her twin brother. She knew it would be bad, but when he manages to produce her half-brother, Jon Snow in King’s Landing, weeks later, she never actually knew how truly bad it could get.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 76
Kudos: 225





	A Real Truth

**Author's Note:**

> So, I started writing this three weeks ago and I intended on it being a oneshot, but as it is almost 14k words, I figured maybe a two or three chapter story wouldn’t be so bad, especially since I do have an idea of how the story will go and end.
> 
> Anywho, if it wasn’t obvious enough by the summary, this is a forced marriage story between Sansa and Jon while they believe they are half-siblings. I’ve read at least two, maybe three other stories with this concept and I just love it so much! One in particular: The shelter of your arms by framboise. A beautifully written story, if you haven’t read it then get your ass over there and read it! It’s so good! (pretty sure I haven’t reviewed it though, better get on that lol).
> 
> Anyway, the what-if aspect of it is so much fun and interesting dynamic that I just couldn’t help but be apart of. I will say one thing, the difference for mine is…well they get forced to consummate the marriage, no faking it and what not. I wanted to go a bit dark in that aspect, so please be aware that this will be a bit dark (what do ya expect from me?) and all that jazz. 
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy!!! ^_~

She knew it would be bad by the way she was practically dragged through the great halls of the Red Keep, her slippers barely making traction on the ground as Meryn Trant dragged her along behind him. His armored fist so tight around her upper arm that Sansa was sure there’d be a bruise left behind for her to tend to later that night before bed. Her hair was down, only getting it brushed by Shae before her door bust open by the armored brute. Shae cried out at the abrupt entrance, dropping the brush to the ground as Trant ignored her to grab Sansa.

She was only in her nightgown still; the sun had hardly risen in the sky. It only meant that the King was angry and raging in the throne room. Sansa knew there was hell to pay and that she, unfortunately, would be the bearer of that payment.

Upon their stride through the halls, she took notice of many lords and ladies about with streaks of horror and panic expressing from their frantic movements and expressions. It could only mean that her brother was making headway on his journey to King’s Landing. It meant that Stannis was also making headway as well. It meant Sansa was going to be in a world of humiliation and pain.

The doors to the throne room were wide open, allowing all and any to enter. People made way though once they sighted Ser Meryn dragging her along, finding it in themselves to snicker behind shaking hands at the sight of her. Sansa ignored them as they were faceless background people who only found entertainment in the horrible beating of a poor, innocent girl. They were meaningless and they meant nothing.

Joffrey sat irritably upon the Iron Throne. His right leg was crossed over the other and swinging rapidly up and down, showing his anger and impatience. His left hand held his head while his elbow was placed on the arm of the throne, and his face was pinched in rage, she could practically hear the gnashing of his teeth behind his pursed lips. Sansa’s heart rate picked up quickly at the sight, fear wrapping around her like an invisible cloak.

It was going to be bad.

Meryn pulled to a halt in front of the throne before tossing her forward towards the ground. Sansa cried out as she crumbled to the hard, unforgiving stone floor with her hands planted out to catch her fall. Her kneecaps ached from the hard fall as well as her upper arm throbbing from the sudden release of his armored grip. She heard quiet snickers arise from her ungraceful toss.

“Do you know what is happening right now, Lady Sansa?” Joffrey asked heatedly, uncrossing his legs to plant them firmly on the ground as he leaned forward with his elbows propped on his knees.

Sansa lifted her head up, heart beating so fast it was practically in her throat now, but she managed to answer, “No, your Grace, I do not.”

“Of course, you don’t. There is nothing inside that pretty little head of yours to begin with,” Joffrey snared, clasping his hands together. “Your traitor brother is pushing against the front line of my men near Harrenhal while Stannis is coming with a full fleet by sea. And would you like to know what is even worse than that?”

Sansa wasn’t sure if he was expecting a response to his rhetorical question. He could sit up on that throne all day long, but honestly, it was him that had nothing inside his head; not her. When she didn’t give an answer, Joffrey make a gesture with his hand and suddenly she was struck hard in the back from behind.

“You will answer when spoken to, Lady Sansa,” Joffrey angrily stated, smirking at the sound of Meryn’s fist when it struck her upper shoulder.

“Yes, your Grace,” Sansa said thickly, trying in vain to keep her eyes from watering over. It would only incite his rage further.

“As I was saying, would you like to know what is even worse than that?”

This time she answered, “Yes, your Grace, what is worse than that?”

Joffrey only looked slightly pleased by her response before continuing, “What is worse is that both traitors to the crown are spreading horrid rumors about me and my family. Have you heard of these rumors?”

“No,” Sansa said quickly, but she was lying. It was all anyone could whisper about.

“They are spreading rumors that my father is not my father and that my mother had not remained faithful to her King husband. They say that I am not the true King of Westeros. They say I am a product of incest! Do you agree, Lady Sansa?!”

Immediately, Sansa leaned back on her knees and practically cried out, “No, your Grace! I do not agree! It is awful what they are saying and untrue!”

Cersei smirked at the sight of her groveling, but she ignored the Queen regent. At this point, Sansa would say just about anything to keep from any more beatings and humiliation. Anything to survive and preserve herself.

“So, you agree that they are lying?” Joffrey further asked, seemingly enjoying her groveling at his feet.

“Yes, your Grace, I agree that they are lying.”

Joffrey then stood up from his perch, stepping down the many steps from the Iron Throne. Sansa bit the inside of her cheek to keep her lips from trembling as he made his way slowly down to her. Her heart that had once been almost inside her throat was dropping down into the pit of her stomach at his approach.

It was going to be bad.

“Do you know how they could have possibly conceived such an idea about me, their King and my King father and Queen mother?” he inquired slowly, stopping at the final step of the throne with only a few feet between them now.

“No, your Grace, I do not.”

The dread and tension in the room was thick and stifling. Sansa felt like she was barely getting any air in her lungs as she breathed through her nose. Joffrey tilted his head as he stared down at her, leaving the air still with anticipation of his next words.

“Your traitor father,” he answered plainly as though it was the most obvious answer in the world, and she should have known that from the start. Maybe she had, but she would never had answered correctly regardless. “But don’t worry, my lady, I will soon have an answer to their rumors. I will show them a real truth to their rumors. Until then, Ser Meryn, strip her bare and give her a beating.”

Sansa held back her cry as her nightgown was ripped from her body, she only moved to cover her exposed breasts before Meryn beat her back with his fists.

She knew it was going to be bad…

\---------------------------------------------------------

It was moments like this as she was once more being dragged throughout the Red Keep that she had wished she had gone with Sandor Clegane. Sansa wondered where she would be right now, if she had taken him up on his offer to take her away from King’s Landing. Would she be closer to Riverrun? Or would she be down near the Reach or Dorne? Regardless, she would be anywhere, but here.

The only relief she got was the fact that Joffrey had officially dropped her as his betroth and replaced her with Margery Tyrell instead. She felt bad for the other girl, she had no idea who or what kind of person Joffrey truly was. There were moments where Sansa felt the need to tell her, but she held her tongue, allowed Margery to dictate the conversations between them. As much as she enjoyed the older girl, she could not trust her.

She couldn’t trust anyone.

Meryn Trant was in a right mood, tugging her harshly to the point that Sansa was sure that her forearm was ready to snap underneath his clenched armor fist. At one point, she tripped over an uplifted stone in the flooring, yet he didn’t stop for her to get back to her feet, merely dragging her along the ground as Sansa struggled to get back to her feet. She managed to do so before they entered the throne room. She even managed to not collapse upon being tossed forward like she had the few times she was dragged here.

Looking up, Sansa noted that Joffrey was beside himself with glee. He could hardly keep his mouth shut which was scary to look upon especially after his uncle and grandfather would not allow the public beatings and humiliation. It meant something bad for her was coming and she feared what it was. She also took notice that Tywin wasn’t present, only Tyrion and Cersei stood to the side with Varys and Petyr Baelish watching on over the proceedings. She wondered why the Hand to the King wasn’t present, but she figured whatever was going to happen would not please him very much.

Hardly anything pleased him.

Sansa tried to stand strong, placing her hands clasped in front of her as she waited to be addressed. Whispers were circling around behind her, it seemed no one really knew what was going on. She tilted her head to the left to notice Margery and her family, standing off to the side and all looking quite curious. If she observed closely enough, Sansa could tell that even Tyrion did not know what was going on.

Cersei’s lips were twisted into an ever-present smirk, sending a shiver of fear down her spine. Clearly, the Queen regent was in on the secret and found nothing but utter amusement in it. That did bode well for Sansa.

“Today, is a good day, a marvelous day! Would you like to know why that is, Lady Sansa?” Joffrey asked joyously, practically bouncing in his seat. All the moisture in her throat dried up at the sight and it made it hard for her to find her voice to speak.

“Yes, your Grace.”

“Good! You see, I have finally received a package that will help me prove the foolish lies your traitor brother and that rat, Stannis Baratheon have been spreading about me and my family. Do you remember what I said, Lady Sansa?” Joffrey inquired gleefully, his top teeth sinking down into his bottom lip.

_“But don’t worry, my lady, I will soon have an answer to their rumors. I will show them a real truth to their rumors.”_

“Yes, your Grace,” Sansa answered numbly, wondering what exactly it was that would be his ‘real truth’. Her heart started to beat painfully fast inside her chest, and she could feel sweat forming at the back of her neck, underneath her long, flowing hair.

“What did I say?” he continued, raising an eyebrow.

Taking a deep breath, Sansa answered, “You would show them a real truth to their rumors and lies.”

“Good, Lady Sansa. I’m glad you payed such good attention that day.” Joffrey’s wormy lips spread wide, showing all of his straight, white teeth that gleamed in the early morning light. That look struck fear in her far more than any of his angered looks.

It was never good when the King was truly happy.

“I thought very hard about how I should proceed with such lies spreading like wildfire throughout my Kingdom. My Hand had quite many ideas, so did my mother, but this idea is all my own. You see, I think there was a reason why your traitor father told his family such a distasteful, disgusting lie about my family. A specific reason and only one that could have formed from experience…” Joffrey trailed off for a moment, leaving everyone in the throne room leaning forward, eagerly awaiting what the King would say next.

Sansa couldn’t follow his strange train of thought; she could not fathom what he was getting at. A specific reason? One formed from experience? Whatever could he possibly mean?

“I think your traitor father said those rumors because he had partaken in such a repulsive relationship with his sister.” Gasps were thrown around behind her. Sansa couldn’t understand where Joffrey could ever have come up with such an idea. Her father spoke lovingly of his sister, Lyanna, but he had never spoken as though there was more than familial love between them.

He was lying. Lying through his teeth to spare his family the rumors of their truth, to spare the questioning of his true origins. And who could stand up to Joffrey to state he was lying? Her father was dead and Lyanna had been long dead before even she was born. No one could truly dispute his claims.

“Yes,” Joffrey nodded to himself, “It’s all very clear now how he could possibly have conceived an idea about my family, when in reality, it was about his family. It seems, my lady, that incestuously feelings run in your family, and who am I to stop such things from continuing?”

More whispers were spoken behind her, jolting the fear and anxiety building inside her. Sansa felt her eyes start to water. What was he talking about? None of his words made sense to her. He was talking in riddles and Cersei seemed to be the only one who understood every word he spoke. Even Varys and Littlefinger looked perplexed by their King’s words.

Joffrey seemed to notice that no one was following along his thought process, but he wasn’t deterred by it, it only seemed to excite him more. It was a secret only he knew and was willing to be so kind as to share with all of them. He stood then, gesturing a wave as he said, “Well then, why don’t I enlighten everyone to what I am saying.”

Grunting and yelling started to enter the throne room. Sansa turned to see two of the Kingsguard pulling and yanking a man through the room. There was a sack over his head and his hands were bound behind his back as the guards held him tight by his upper arms. His clothing consisted of nothing but black, appearing torn and weatherworn. She could hear him trying to speak, but he must be gagged underneath the sack because it comes out as mumbling and grunts.

“It has taken weeks for my package to arrive because you see it had to be delivered from the North, far North,” Joffrey raised his eyebrow as he said, ‘far North’. A sense of dread came over Sansa as she started to connect the dots in her mind.

Talking about incestuous relationships running in her family and not wanting to stop it from continuing then commenting about the package being delivered from far North. Slowly, Sansa turned her head to the man a few feet from her. He was forced to his knees with the sack still over his head. No, she thought, it couldn’t be.

“Allow me to reintroduce you to,” Joffrey paused to make a gesture and as the sack was yanked off his head, the King continued, “Jon Snow, your bastard half-brother.”

Gasps and shouts of surprise echoed around the large room, but Sansa heard none of it as she gazed at her half-brother. His hair was messy from being in the sack for so long and he was gagged with cloth wrapped around his mouth and head. He bared his teeth like a wolf at Joffrey before his eyes turned to connect to hers. Stark grey eyes widen as they connected with her equally widen, glossy Tully blue eyes.

A lurch in her stomach almost made her collapse to the ground. No, Joffrey couldn’t possibly be thinking what she dreaded he was thinking. Jon was a part of the Night’s Watch, surely he had already taken his oath. How could Joffrey as King disregard that and force him here, in King’s Landing? Sansa didn’t have to think too hard about that, knowing Joffrey disregarded everything in his rule as King. He didn’t care what others thought and did as he wished.

Sansa noticed a dark mark on the side of Jon’s face, possibly from resisting, she was sure. His overall appearance looked tired, worn, and beaten down. The two Stark children that interacted the least amount, now we practically one and the same. She noticed his eyes taking her in, she wondered if he already knew what Joffrey was going to say.

“Your traitor father spread an unkind, revolting rumor and your traitor brother has taken to spreading it far and wide as well. Let’s see how he’ll feel when he learns of his own family’s revolting truth. Tomorrow, we will celebrate the marriage of Sansa Stark and her half-brother, Jon Snow.” Joffrey started laughing so gleefully, so evilly, it choked the very air in his lungs.

Laughter filled the throne room from all corners. Sansa glanced around herself in disbelief that any of these people would allow such an insane suggestion to happen. The Tyrells looked shocked and uncomfortable, the advisors, Varys and Littlefinger looked speechless, and Tyrion was so pale, that she thought he’d faint before she did. Cersei was smirking widely, pleased to pieces over this decision.

Grunting and yelling forced her attention towards Jon as he struggled angrily within the bound grasp of the two Kingsguard, his eyes were narrowed and glaring hatefully at Joffrey. The King ignored the look though, leaning back against the Iron Throne, all relaxed like and content with the proceedings as they were. It seemed nothing could ruin his mood now.

Desperately, Sansa found the will to speak, “Your Grace, I don’t understand! It is unlawful, no Septon would ever officiate such a marriage. Please, please don’t do this!”

She fell to her knees, bowing down before him with her hands and forehead pressed to the stone floor. She was not above begging; she was not above groveling. Silence rein over the court now, even Jon had quieted down after her outburst.

“Your family must pay for their defiance. Your family must pay for their lies. Unfortunately, for you, my lady, you will be the bearer of this payment. I am King and I decide who can and cannot marry, I decide if this marriage is unlawful or not! You will wed your bastard, half-brother tomorrow evening, and you will both consummate the marriage,” Joffrey darkly stated, initiating more gasps of shock. “I’ll show your traitor brother, I’ll show everyone the true incestuous family in Westeros, and it will not be the Lannisters that will hold such a title.”

Sansa raised her head from the floor, tears making treks down her cheeks as her eyes took in her King. He waved them away after that. Jon was yanked back to his feet and dragged away, to where she did not know. Meryn Trant grabbed a hold of her as well, tugging her along back to her chambers.

Meryn started to chuckle darkly as he dragged her, turning his head to peer down at her with a toothy grin. “Thought you would wed the King and now, you will wed your brother. I’m going to enjoy watching him rip apart your maidenhead and get you pregnant with his babe.”

Sickness swirled inside her stomach. Sansa wasn’t sure she’d be able to hold back from retching before they could make it to her chambers. Her feet barely touched the steps up to her chambers and before she knew it, she was at her door. It opened abruptly and Meryn practically threw her at Shae.

The older woman caught Sansa quickly in her arms, enclosing her tightly to her bosom as she glared heatedly at the Kingsguard knight. He snorted at the look then slammed the door behind him, leaving them both in silence.

“Chamber pot,” Sansa managed to mumble, and Shae quickly helped her over where she retched painfully into the little pot. Barely anything came up, but she felt better after a few minutes of dry heaving.

“What happened?” Shae asked softly, pulling back Sansa’s long hair in one hand while running the back of her fingers on her cheek lovingly. It was moments like this with Shae that made her miss her mother so much.

“Joffrey…he’s going to…have me wed…” Sansa gasped between retches, her hands clamped tightly around the small chamber pot. She could hardly get the words out of her mouth. The very thought of what the King wanted her to do was so overwhelming, it was taking everything in her to even voice it, much less actually comprehend it.

“He wants you to wed? Wed who?” Shae continued to question; her voice so full of concern.

Leaning back, Sansa took a deep breath before looking up to her handmaiden with glossy eyes. “He wants me to wed my half-brother, Jon. He had him taken from the Wall and brought here to King’s Landing. The wedding will be tomorrow…”

Shae flinched back in shock. The once whore wasn’t a religious person from what Sansa had learned of her, but even she had to know how wrong it was for siblings to be wed.

“The High Septon would never allow such a thing,” Shae countered much like Sansa had earlier in the throne room, but she merely shook her head.

“He says he is above the law and will do as he pleases. Shae, I don’t want to wed my brother. Joffrey’s going to make us consummate the marriage,” Sansa declared, tears now rolling down her cheeks.

For so long, Sansa had feared getting her moon’s blood for that meant she could have Joffrey’s children. She knew it would be a horrible experience with him, knew he’d hurt her in every possible way he could. When he dropped her as his betroth, she had been so relieved that it was hard to pretend to be upset about being passed on. Yet, the fear of the next man she would be betrothed to settled over her, and now…now she knew exactly who that man is.

Thinking about Jon, she thought about the last time she had seen him. Sansa had been so preoccupied with getting ready to leave Winterfell that she hadn’t said goodbye to him that day. He never went out of his way to approach her either, but then she couldn’t exactly blame him. Neither of them knew how to be with each other now. When they had been children, it was easier. Sansa would play games with him and Robb and Theon. They’d run around in the godswood, swim in the lake by the weirwood, and be children.

Once Sansa had become one and ten, she had drifted off from her brothers, wanting to be surrounded by ladies and talk of girlish topics. Jon had always been distant even as a child. She wasn’t so sure it was because of her but more because of her mother. Catelyn Stark never went out of her way to be mean to him, but she never went out of her way to be accommodating and nice either. 

Whatever the case, Sansa was not close to her half-brother and now…now they would be far closer than was right. The thought of them wedding was making her sick, but not as much as the thought of them consummating the marriage. The thought of him stripped naked, crawling over her and taking her maidenhead…

Sansa brought up her knees to her chest as she wrapped her arms around them to cry into her knees. Shae consoled her best she could with a soothing, motherly voice and loving pets of her hand over her head and down her hair. It helped a little, but it couldn’t stop the storm of thoughts swirling around her head, nor the ache inside her heart as she realized that after tomorrow, her whole world would forever be ruined.

No man would dream of wedding a woman who wed her brother especially if the sham marriage was consummated as well. Sansa had tried to stop her romantic, wistful dreams, but sometimes they were the only things that kept her going. The thought that one day, Robb would save her from this literal hell and whisk her away back home in Winterfell where she would remain until she fell in love with a man who would love her the same. These ridiculous dreams that did nothing for her current predicament, but still kept her hoping and willing to survive in hopes of them one day coming true.

After tomorrow, none of them would ever come true. After tomorrow…Sansa’s life would be over…

\---------------------------------------------------------

Sansa hardly slept at all that night. She tossed and turned, went between being too hot and too cold then she laid there, staring at the canopy overhead as she wondered where Jon was in the castle. Their reacquaintance was so short lived and though she dreaded what the next morning would bring, she couldn’t stop the small part of her that was so happy to have a familiar face here. Even if it was for the worse possible reason.

She wondered if he was down in the dungeons. She hoped that was not the case, not to mention Joffrey would want to make a show of the wedding the next day. No, Jon was probably placed in a small, unremarkable chamber to sleep that night then they’d get him cleaned up for the next evening. Sansa remembered the bruise around his eye and wondered if he gained it from fighting his captors, actually, she wondered how they managed to bring him down to King’s Landing.

Surely, there were men at the Watch that would gladly give Jon up. Sansa wondered if Joffrey even had to offer anything in return for his new captive. She could remember that one man from the Night’s Watch when her father was still alive and was tending to court as King Robert was galivanting off on a hunt or some such thing. She remembered they needed supplies and men at the Wall, but she guessed one lone bastard wouldn’t make a difference if he was there or not.

With a deep-set sigh, Sansa shook her head. Jon was more than a bastard; it was why she had called him half-brother instead. She wondered if that made a difference to him though.

As her mind wandered within her sleeplessness, she vaguely thought that things could be much worse than they already were. She could have been wed to an ugly, disgusting older man. She could have her head on a spike beside her father’s. She could still be betrothed to Joffrey. At the very least, she knew Jon and she trusted him as her brother, half or otherwise…

Shae gently shook her awake a scant few hours later. Sansa hadn’t even realized she fell asleep and hardly felt like she had. As she started to wake with bright morning light filtering through the large bay window in her chambers, her door opened to a bustle of maids. Their hands were full of fabric, makeup supplies, and buckets of hot water that was dumped into the tub in the far corner of her chambers. Shae led her over to her vanity where she started unbraiding her hair then brushing out the strands.

Quickly though, another maid took over, pulling Sansa to her feet to shed her nightgown then she was being forced into the almost scolding hot water. Shae glared at the other women as they none too gently scrubbed her body and washed her hair. Sansa endured it though, use to the harsh treatment of others.

Shae was the only one who was ever soft and gentle with her.

Once the maids had deemed her clean, she was yanked out of the tub and toweled off roughly. Lacey smallclothes were pulled up her legs while an ivory corset was wrapped around her chest then tightly tugged and tied. Her hair was brushed quickly, yanking at tangles without a care in the world. Shae somehow managed to push aside the maid at her hair and thoroughly brushed through Sansa’s hair with a gentle hand.

The battle of getting her dressed into her wedding dress was just as horrible as everything else thus far. She was stabbed and pricked with needles every chance one of the maids could get. During the commotion, her door opened to reveal Cersei. She smirked at the sight of Sansa being readied for her incestuous marriage. She did her best to keep a blank face, to not show the Queen regent how truly scared she was. Be brave, like Robb and father, Sansa reminded herself as Cersei took a seat at her vanity to watch.

The dress was made of beautiful silk and Sansa noticed that they were in the colors of her house, grey and white. The dress was mostly a soft grey, one that reminded her of a snowy day when the sky had started to open up and let snow drift down to the world. The accents of the dress were white as well as the trim. It was a beautiful dress, Sansa thought, far too beautiful for such a horrendous occasion. Her eyes glanced over to the cloak she would wear, noting that it had the Stark sigil on it as well.

What would Jon’s cloak look like? Would they make him wear a Stark cloak as well even though he was a Snow? Sansa turned her eyes down to her feet. Her nerves were starting to get to her and the thought of pushing the maids aside to run away was strong.

“Are you excited, little dove?” Cersei asked in such a gentle tone, it made her lift her eyes immediately, but there on her face was nothing but a smirk.

The thought of saying nothing had her hold her tongue for a moment, but she knew Cersei would just continue to pick and poke at her to get the response she wanted. So, Sansa shook her head then said, “No, more nervous.”

The Queen regent nodded, leaning back against the vanity behind her as she took in the dress being stitched together on Sansa. “I would be nervous too. Bastards are known for not being the gentlest of men, dictated by their lusts and born from such lusts. I do not envy you in your marriage bed.”

Sansa bit the inside of her cheek to keep from giving a reaction. Jon would never be that way with her, he’d be gentle, she knew it even if the thought still made her queasy. Cersei tilted her head to the side as she gazed at her.

“Regardless of the circumstances, you do look lovely, my dear,” Cersei said almost sympathetically, standing up from her perch to take Sansa’s hand in hers. Her hands were cold, revealing the cold snake underneath her beauty. “If I could give you a little advice. Close your eyes and imagine he’s someone else that will make you wet before he’s plunging into you, ripping apart your maidenhead. It will make the bedding easier.”

The air hissed into her lungs at the vulgar advice given to her. Cersei laughed darkly, dropping Sansa’s hand then leaving the chambers altogether. Her eyes lifted to catch Shae’s, there was determination in her eyes, and she was sure to get much better advice from her than the Queen regent.

Once everything was done, her hair brushed and braided, dress stitched together and covering her frame, and makeup lightly placed upon her face; Sansa was left alone with only Shae by her side. Shae walked around the chambers, picking up the mess the other maids left behind in their haste to leave. 

Her handmaiden grumbled under her breath, “Even whores know how to clean up after themselves.”

Sansa couldn’t help but giggle at Shae, feeling a real smile come to her lips the first time that day. The older woman looked up from her cleaning and sent her a soft smile before tossing the mess in her hands then seating herself next to her on the bed. Shae reached over to grasp her hand, giving a squeeze then rubbing her thumb up and down the back of her hand.

“Don’t listen to her, she only wishes to scare you,” Shae assured her.

“I know, but she isn’t wrong…I don’t know if I could…be prepared for Jon…” Sansa trailed off further, her face bright red.

“I have a special oil that I will tuck away in your new chambers before then. If I have the chance, I will show you how to use it…” Shae glanced about them then turned to Sansa once more with a tighter grip. “I could…I could try to help you escape, my lady.”

“Shhh, no, no, it’s okay, Shae. Please, even if I wanted too…I cannot leave Jon here all alone. They’d kill him otherwise,” Sansa whispered, squeezing her maid’s hand just as tightly. “If you could just…instruct me on how everything will go, that would be most helpful.”

Shae nodded. “You are the bravest person I have ever met.”

She wished she believed that as much as Shae did…

\---------------------------------------------------------

Shae parted quite a bit of knowledge in relation to the bedding. She told Sansa how to apply the oil between her legs and how she could bring herself pleasure as well. She had even mentioned trying to procure some moon tea as well and Sansa was forever grateful for that. It was bad enough that it seemed this sham marriage was actually going to happen, but to actually become pregnant with her brother’s child…it was unthinkable.

As she was being escorted to the Sept of Baelor, Sansa tried to walk with dignity and grace. If she must go through with this then she was going to do so without fear or at the very least, not show her fear. The men escorting her, Osmund Kettleback and Balon Swann didn’t provide any advice, opting to stay quiet during their trek and she appreciated it, grateful that it wasn’t Meryn Trant escorting her as usual.

He would have provided her with horrible images and information that would only frighten her more. It was hard enough trying to keep her wits about her while the rest of her mind felt like it was drowning, she did not need any more help in that department.

The day was sunny and beautiful, the sun was just passing over, getting closer to evening. In only a few hours, it would be dusk. It was also a cooler day, the air came off the bay and shore, bringing a fresh, salty smell and taste as well as lovely breezes to strive off the heat of King’s Landing. Yet, the nice day could not take away what was to happen in a few minutes, nor did it stop Sansa from freezing for a moment as she took in the steps of the Sept.

She hadn’t been back since that day…

Memories flooded her mind as she remembered her father kneeling over a block, Ice lifted up above his head. Sansa sucked in a sharp inhale of air, stopping for a mere moment to catch her breath before proceeding up the steps. The guards watched her carefully, stepping closer in case she fled.

They came to a stop in front of the impressively large doors to the Sept, Ser Osmund stepped forward to speak to one of the men guarding the door. They spoke quietly then she was gestured forward and just as abruptly, the doors were opened, and she entered. Ser Balon walked beside her and directed her to the right into a small room. The High Septon stood before her with Joffrey beside him, they both stopped talking when she entered.

The High Septon was a rather plum man, the fat under his chin so full that it hid his neck from view. He was also cleanly shaven with wiry grey hair smoothed back underneath her ceremonial cap. He was a large man and Sansa was sure she heard whispers in court that he was also called ‘The fat one’ and ‘Fat High Septon’. Cruel words for a man so holy, but then she had also heard he was just as corrupt as everyone else in the capital.

Joffrey smiled widely at the sight of her, his eyes roving over her being. “You look quite lovely today, Lady Sansa. Ready to be wedded?”

The High Septon looked less than happy about the situation though that didn’t stop him from giving her the most disgusted look possible. It was as though he thought she had actually agreed to all this, as though he thought it was her idea.

“Yes, your Grace,” Sansa quickly answered when Joffrey’s smile lessened from her lack of response. He then clapped his hands together excitedly, the only person aside from his mother that was actually happy for the occasion.

“Wonderful, then let’s get this wedding started.”

Joffrey approached her, offering his arm. Sansa startled at first, realizing that he intended to give her away. She was quick to wrap her hand around his arm to avoid his temper, but she still felt sick from just touching him. The thought of Joffrey giving her away not only sickened her but angered her as well. If this had been a true wedding, it’d be her father giving her away, not the rotten King. Tears welled in her eyes, so she bit the inside of her cheek to hold them at bay.

Don’t cry now, be strong and brave as any Stark would be, Sansa thought wistfully, thinking of her family. They were all strong in their own right, even little Rickon was and so was Jon. She had to be strong.

The High Septon walked out first, a whisk of heavy perfume following behind that tickled her nose and made her cough. Even Joffrey wrinkled his nose at the heavy smell.

They stepped out of the small room and watched the High Septon walk down the lane between the pews before reaching the few steps up to the platform. It was upon watching that Sansa noticed Jon standing up there. He was dressed in all black like yesterday, but she could tell from here that it was nicer clothes. She could also tell that he was clean shaven, and a guard stood behind him, an ever-present shadow to remind him to behave.

The pews were filled to the brim with lords and ladies from all parts of the Westeros but the North. All waiting to witness the atrocious event of wedding a brother and sister together. Some peered over their shoulders to see her standing there with Joffrey, waiting for their cue. The smirks, snickers, and gleaming eyes stared her down, wallowing in her misery. Not one of these low life snakes felt the need to wonder if this was right or wrong?

No, perhaps they have, but none had the guts to stand up to the King. Half of her understood that sentiment, it was easier to look the other way than to stand up in front of injustice, but the other half of her pitied them more; pitied herself. For all her thoughts of them not standing up against this, she had not either and she was a part of it. Sansa glanced down to her feet, taking in the length of her gown, in this moment, she was no better than any of them.

Music started to play via a piano then Joffrey started to walk them down the aisle. As they walked, Sansa took in the people filling the large church, taking note of the Tyrells seated together and dressed well. Margery watched them pass with a look of sympathy upon her face. Honestly, Sansa didn’t know which one of them pitied the other more at this point.

Jon turned his head, face pinched in anger, but it smoothed out as he took her in. His eyes slightly widen, and his mouth opened just a small bit in awe. Sansa appreciated it, it helped to ease the feeling in her stomach as they approached the platform.

Joffrey took her hand then narrowed his eyes at Jon until he lifted his hand to take hers. “Behave, bastard,” Joffrey grumbled between them then proceeded down the steps to seat himself beside his mother.

Her hand started to shake as Jon held it within his. Reality was starting to truly set it now as they stood before each other. This was really happening. The King was truly going to force them to wed, brother and sister. Jon closed his hand tighter around hers to keep her quaking hand still. She glanced at their hands, hers was slimmer and smaller than his. His fingers long, but thick and she could feel the callouses on them from handling a sword among other hardships. It was strange, Sansa doesn’t remember if she had ever held Jon’s hand before now. She couldn’t bring up any memory of such an occurrence. She then lifted her eyes to peer into his where she could see concern in his eyes for her.

Sansa hoped he could read her own concern for him in her eyes as they stared at each other. Everything seemed to become still as they stared. She felt like a million words had transpired between them and yet, she had no idea what was said. Her eyes roved over his face, the bruise on the side of his head was still dark and splotchy, especially with how cleaned up he was with his wild hair brushed back from his face. Her heart made a tiny skip inside her chest as she realized how handsome Jon was. Her cheeks heated up from the thought as well as queasiness because she shouldn’t be noticing such a thing of her brother.

The High Septon stepped up to them as the music came to a slow halt. He spoke loudly beside them, calling this occasion lovely and that the Seven was shining down upon them. Sansa could hardly believe the utter lies spewing from his mouth and it seemed he didn’t believe them either. His face was contorted like he was in pain as he spoke, obviously not enjoying officiating this marriage, but willing to do it. It made her wonder what was offered to him beyond his very life to even consider going through all this.

Surely, the Seven was disgusted by such a display. They were Starks, not Targaryens.

“Place your cloak around his shoulders,” hissed the High Septon, shocking Sansa out of her stare to turn to him. It was then she noticed that Jon did not wear a cloak of his own, his shoulders were bare of any.

Sansa stumbled in her attempt to take the cloak off her shoulders, her fingers barely working together enough to remove the clasp. She pulled the warm material off her shoulders then looked to Jon only to find him kneeling before her. Slowly, his eyes lifted up to stare at her and the look quite literally took her breath away.

The High Septon hissed at her to hurry up. Sansa quickly placed the cloak around his shoulders then as he stood, she tried to re-tie the clasp together again, but her fingers were numb while a cold sweat was forming on her brow. Quite suddenly, she felt faint.

Jon took a hold of her hands in his, warm and strong, he replaced her hands and finished retying the clasp. The High Septon gestured for them to hold hands again.

It was time to say the words that would bind them together in marriage.

Her voice cracked and pitched as she spoke while Jon’s was low and deep. Another realization came over her, this was the first time she’d heard him speak since Winterfell. Sansa was stunned to hear how deep his voice had become; he sounded like a man. Though his voice didn’t change in pitch and tone, she could see in his eyes that he was nervous as much as her. They were at the point of no return and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

The High Septon approached them again and as he tied their hands together with a red ribbon, he said, “one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.” He then stepped back quickly, his face expressing disgust at them.

Jon stared down at their hands clasped together and tied in place then he slowly drew his eyes up to hers, but he made no move to kiss her like he should. He looked to be froze in place, his eyes widen in slight panic and now it was his hand shaking within hers. Sansa glanced over to see Joffrey’s face becoming red, he’d start yelling soon, he might even make his Kingsguard push them together.

Be brave, you are a Stark, Sansa reminded herself briefly before stepping up to her half-brother. Jon’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, watching her complete the distance between them. She used her free hand, placing it at the back of his neck and using as much strength as she could to pull him down to her. ‘Be brave’ became a mantra inside her head as she pulled him down and their lips met in a kiss.

It lasted all of a second or two then Sansa was dropping her hand as Jon’s back went completely stiff and straight. His whole body was shaking now, possibly in shock at her boldness, but it needed to be done. The Sept was filled with clapping, but also laughter. Sansa looked over to see Joffrey giddy and laughing with many others following suit as the High Septon removed the ribbon from their hands.

Her face reddened in humiliation, her eyes filled with tears, but she refused to let them fall. Sansa would not allow Joffrey to get the better of her. She had to be stronger than that. If not for her then for Jon, she thought as she turned to see Jon’s jaw twitch from grinding his teeth. He turned towards Joffrey, moving as though he aimed to go after the King. Before the Kingsguard could react, Sansa wrapped her arms around his chest, trying her best to hold him back from making a terrible mistake.

“Jon, don’t,” Sansa whispered, clinging to him tightly. He glared heatedly at Joffrey then turned to look at her. “Don’t make this worse than it has to be,” she continued, pleading with her eyes that he listen.

After a moment, his shoulders dropped, and he released a sigh. “He’s going to pay,” Jon vowed darkly for only her ears to hear.

Joffrey stood then, smirking wickedly at them especially with Sansa wrapped around her brother as she was. “What a loving display! Let’s move this celebration to the marriage feast!”

The Kingsguard came up behind them as the King made his way down the aisle. Sansa clasped her arm through Jon’s as they walked behind him. This time she avoided looking at anyone as they walked together. She had entered the Sept single and fearful, now she leaves it married and still completely and utterly fearful…

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Sansa could hardly touch the food placed before her. The evening was cool with golden rays of sun slowly disappearing beyond the horizon. She had eaten nothing that day, yet her stomach was still unnerved and the thought of attempting to eat more than tiny bites, here and there, brought a wave of nausea.

Jon had touched very little of his meal too, and that included the wine placed before him. She took tiny sips of her own, needing moisture in her clenched and dry throat, and the fake courage it could bring in dire situations. She was going to need that for later.

Everyone around them seemed to be enjoying the celebration with laughter and chatter echoing from all corners. Sansa made the mistake of looking over to Cersei to see her raise her wine glass back at her, a wink following after as she drank heavily from her glass.

Turning away, she exhaled a deep sigh along with a sudden rush of tears. Sansa kept telling herself to be strong, but it was getting harder and harder as the day wore on. She kept telling herself that it really wasn’t as bad as it could be and truth be told, it could be much, much worse. She turned her head slightly, peering over to Jon again. His face was blank for the most part, aside from how drawn downward his eyebrows were. He didn’t seem to be looking at anyone or anything in particular. She wondered if he was trying to disappear inside his mind, something she had done numerous times before.

Sensing her eyes on him, Jon turned to look at her. His eyebrows lifted, his eyes and face softened as he took her in. “I’m happy to see you alive and well, Sansa,” he then mumbled, a small, genuine smile coming to his lips. It was the second time he had spoken to her since they were reunited.

Sansa turned her head down slightly, showing him a small smile as well but quickly disposing of it before anyone else could notice, lest Joffrey’s attention is drawn to them for more humiliation. “I’m very happy to see you alive and well, even if it’s under such a…horrendous occasion.”

“Aye,” Jon nodded, his nose and lips scrunching up like he wanted to growl like a wolf. Sansa felt her heart skip a beat and a rush of heat come to her face at the sight. Her eyes immediately drew downward in shock, why was she blushing so fiercely?

It wasn’t from humiliation; she knew what embarrassment felt like. No, this was different, and she wasn’t so sure she liked it either.

Suddenly and loudly, Joffrey was standing, calling out to them. “A toast to the married couple! Eddard Stark would be proud!”

A burst of laugher came out of the crowd, lords and ladies laughing loudly and gesturing towards them. A growl came forth beside her and without thinking, Sansa moved her hand to grab hold of Jon’s beneath the table, squeezing tightly in hopes that’ll restrain him. His hand balled up into a tight fist around hers, but his shoulders relaxed.

“How about another kiss to celebrate? Go on, kiss each other,” Joffrey insisted heatedly, downing the last of his wine with watchful eyes on them.

Jon’s shoulders tensed up again, his hold on her hand starting to become unbearable by how tight he held it. Sansa turned her body towards him, seeing exactly how much tension was rolling off of him like waves. He seemed to refuse to play puppet with Joffrey and she couldn’t blame him, but they needed to appease him.

She didn’t want to be stripped and beaten anymore.

“Jon,” Sansa whispered, lifting her left hand to cup the side of his face. It startled him, causing him to finally look at her where she was able to cup his cheek fully. His cheek was smooth against her hand, soft against her palm and fingers. It sent a strange tingle down her arm to her chest. It made her wonder what his cheek would feel like when he would have his beard again, the thought of prickly, short hair tickling her palm and fingers made even more tingles run beneath her skin. “Close your eyes and imagine I’m someone else, someone you want.”

Jon opened his mouth, possibly intending to say something along the lines of ‘I don’t want to do this’ or ‘closing my eyes won’t change anything’, or maybe that was just what Sansa wanted to say herself. She wasn’t sure, but they had to do it, the King demanded it.

Directing him to lean down, Sansa lifted her chin up as Jon’s eyes closed. She watched his face get closer and closer, then her nose lightly skimmed across his before their lips met in a second kiss. Sansa closed her eyes upon contact, leaning up into him with more pressure in hopes of appeasing Joffrey.

In this second kiss, she noticed how soft Jon’s lips were, how plush and full. It felt strangely nice, not to mention tiny tingles ran through her lips just like her hand. If she wasn’t actually kissing her half-brother then Sansa could see herself liking kissing him especially when he pulled away and their lips twitched and brushed in movement, sending another set of tingles through her lips.

Sansa opened her eyes to see Jon breathing slightly hard though she couldn’t understand why that was. Heat bloomed upon her skin around her cheeks, ears, and down her neck. The cool breeze did nothing to alleviate the heat inside her.

“Bravo! What a great show of intimacy between lovers!” Joffrey shouted with loud clapping.

As Sansa turned back in her seat, she noticed that Jon was still holding her right hand in his. He wasn’t strangling the life out of her hand now, but keeping it clasp securely in his left hand as though he needed it to hold him back still. It was a comfort none the less, so she didn’t pull her hand away.

Her eyes turned to rove over the people drinking and eating until her eyes came back to the Lannister table where Cersei was seated on the left side of Joffrey, Jamie stood behind her dressed in his Kingsguard gear, and Tyrion sat beside his sister, though their chairs were pushed as far away from each other as the table could possibly allow.

Sansa noted that Lord Tywin wasn’t among them. He was Hand to the King now, but he was nowhere to be seen which made sense. All of this was rushed the moment Joffrey announced the wedding yesterday, if his grandfather had known what his grandson was going to do then he’d never allow it. It would be a waste to ruin her with her brother when she had a claim to the North if something were to happen to Robb and her little brothers during the war.

Sansa wondered where Lord Tywin was right now and how angry he will be once he learns of what Joffrey has done. Suddenly, a strange sense of lightness came over her as she realized they couldn’t use her for her claim anymore. Once she and Jon consummated the marriage, she would be untouchable to many and even if they kept her here, her claim would be connected to Jon. Of course, she had thought about the fact that no man would ever want her for anything but her claim and even more so, if and when this marriage is annulled, no one would want a woman who married and slept with her brother. It didn’t matter if Jon was only half her brother from her father’s side.

Still, it was the fact that Joffrey ruined his chance at having the North through her that lightened the anxiety and sickness inside her. He couldn’t use her against the North anymore. The High Septon had officiated the marriage and once consummated, it would be extremely hard to annul it and hopefully by the time that will happen, Robb will have won the war and they would be going back home.

So many thoughts were swirling around her mind, making her awfully dizzy, or was that the wine? There was still the possibility of this marriage becoming annulled by Lord Tywin after, but Joffrey wasn’t exactly a controllable King even on a good day. Regardless, it helped ease Sansa’s anxiety though not by much, there was still more to come…

It was after Joffrey’s pushing that they kiss that initiated well wishes from noble couples. Each came to their table, giving them advice on their newly married status though many couldn’t keep the laughter out of their voices. Some were so red in the face that they practically burst in laughter at their predicament. Jon glared heatedly at each one, becoming less amused as each couple approached them.

Then Margery came to their table with her brother, Loras beside her. She smiled down at Sansa, but she could see the pity in the older girl’s eyes. “I hope this marriage does you well, Sansa,” Margery started off then leaned over the table to whisper in her ear, “Your brother can protect you better this way.”

“It could always be worse,” Loras offered in a cough of a comment, balled up fist in front of his mouth to disguise it. She knew that more than anything, but that didn’t change how bad the current situation was.

“Thank you both,” Sansa uttered blandly though she tried to smile, she just couldn’t bring herself to do so. Margery caressed her cheek as she leaned away then both Tyrell siblings left them to the masses.

Before long, Cersei approached their table. Sansa tensed up immediately upon sighting her. A lump formed inside her throat, making it hard to swallow as the Queen regent come up to them. Her lips thinned out in a wide smile, showing how much she was enjoying the whole situation.

She stopped at the table, glancing between the two of them. “You both do make quite the couple. Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully come again.”

The comment was an uncomfortable one, especially as Sansa realized she was right in her statement. Jon looked much like their late father with his dark hair, grey eyes, and long, Northern face while she looked almost the spitting image of her lady mother. Jon’s hand tightened around hers and thoughtlessly, she stroked the back of his hand with her thumb.

“The advice I would impart for you both would be,” Cersei trailed off, tapping her finger against her bottom lip in thought. “Learn to make each other cum, it’ll be easier to enjoy the sex that way.”

Sansa was speechless and Jon made a choking noise. None of the others had given such frank advice and for that, Cersei was immensely pleased by their reactions. She quickly added, “I would also try to get her with child quickly, who knows who will be next to have her after you,” her eyes stared down at Jon intently and his hand squeezed even harder around her hand.

“Thank you, your grace,” Sansa said breathlessly, shocked by her words but more so by the way she looked at Jon as well. Her emerald eyes peered over at her then, piercing down at her.

“You’re welcome, little dove.” Cersei spoke with a soft tone as though she cared for Sansa, truly. She even reached out to cup her cheek. “It’ll be hardest on you, so make sure you find a way to enjoy it.” She left after that and took the rest of the oxygen they were breathing with her.

After enduring the unsolicited advice that left them both quite shaken, Joffrey had a small play set up with dwarfs dressed up for the parts though he would only let the play start after they kissed again. Jon swiftly leaned over, kissing her quickly then slouched in his chair, glare back in place.

The King frowned at the display but waved for the dwarfs to enact their play already. Sansa found she wished that they didn’t as they enacted different parts of the past; the current past. They sat there and watched a fake Eddard Stark get beheaded with a fake Joffrey smiling and a fake Sansa hysterically crying. It moved on to fake Joffrey beating fake Stannis Baratheon and fake Robb Stark in the final battle.

Sansa was thoroughly sick by the end of it, and she had lost feeling in her right hand by how tightly Jon gripped it during the whole play. Everyone but them were entertained. If anything, it made her want to cry as she was not only reminded of what happened, but it was shown to Jon firsthand without any context of what truly happened. The play had even had a moment where fake Sansa proclaimed her love of Joffrey and willing to betray her family.

They made it seem like she wanted to write that letter, but worse than that was the fact that she still told Cersei that her father wanted them to leave. Maybe it was guilt eating away at her heart that made her want to cry? Seeing the truth of her actions played out in front of her as it was, maybe all of this was what she deserved in the end.

Discreetly, Sansa wiped at a loose tear then grabbed her wine glass before downing the full cup until there was nothing, not even a drop of it left behind. She was startled then by the feeling of Jon’s thumb rubbing back and forth on the back of her hand. She glanced at him to see how concerned he was for her. It made her wonder what Jon had done to deserve this as well? Was it because of his unfortunate bastard status? Was not condemning himself at the Wall not enough to redeem himself? What horrible thing had Jon Snow done to deserve being dragged down to King’s Landing and forced to wed his distant half-sister?

Probably nothing though, he was just a victim of circumstance. He was the easiest sibling to capture, easy enough to yank him from the Wall as Joffrey pleased. No, Jon was unfairly being punished for her actions and didn’t that just make her want to curl up into a ball and cry more. It seemed she was good at ruining every one of her family members lives.

“Sansa,” Jon said softly, turning towards her as she realized more tears were starting to fall from her eyes.

“I think it’s time for the bedding!” Joffrey announced happily.

Before either could react, they were bombarded with lords and ladies. Sansa gasped and cried out as she was pulled this way and that way. She was dragged along by so many men, ripping at her gown, tugging at her hair, and laughing while they coped feels every chance they got. She heard Jon shouting, but she was pulled away and through the keep to her new chambers; their new chambers.

By the time she reached her new room, she was in nothing but a corset and smallclothes. The men had been particularly vicious and ripped the gown and her shift apart, even her corset was loosened somewhat when one lord grabbed the front and gave a hard yank. It did nothing but hurt her rather than rip it open for their viewing pleasure.

Sansa was shaking like a leaf once she was in her new chambers. No one else was within the room, and upon looking throughout the rather small chambers, she spotted the bottle of oil that Shae said she’d leave in there for her. Quickly, before anyone could come by and see her, Sansa ran over and poured a small amount of oil onto her fingers then stuffed her hand into her smallclothes. She felt around her folds, rubbing the oil in then softly pressed the tip of her middle finger into her. She worked her finger in and out then easily to her surprise, worked in a second finger.

Hopefully, this prepping would help though she didn’t feel all that loose. Shae had said it would loosen her up, but maybe she meant that it would be easier for Jon to fit inside her better. Either way, she was just hoping it wouldn’t hurt as bad as she feared.

Hearing commotion outside her door, she pulled her fingers out of herself and yanked her hand from her smallclothes. Quickly, Sansa wiped the rest of the lingering oil from her hand on the end of the blanket on the bed just as the door opened to reveal Jon. He looked just as bad as she did. His clothes were practically torn off and his breeches were barely hanging by a thread.

Jon took the sight of her in, his face turning redder as he noticed her lack of clothes. Then Joffrey appeared behind him, barking at him to get into the room. Her brother gritted his teeth but moved further into the chambers.

Joffrey entered with his uncle Jamie, Meryn Trant, and Osmund Kettleback where they all got situated around the small chambers. Confusion befuddled her before she realized they intended to watch them consummate the marriage. It was then she remembered Meryn Trant’s comment yesterday about witnessing her maidenhead be taking. Jon seemed to realize it about the same time as she did.

“You’re going to watch,” Jon called out angrily. Joffrey rolled his eyes as he got comfortable in one of the armchairs near the hearth.

“Of course, I am. We have to make sure the marriage is consummated and it cannot be left to you both to do so,” Joffrey stated sternly then waved his hands at them, “So hurry up and undress, I want to see how bloody her cunt gets when you stab her with your cock.”

“Jon!” Sansa screamed as he lunged at the King. Meryn moved first, intercepting her brother and knocking him off his feet.

She screamed more as they wrestled on the ground before Jamie pushed Meryn off Jon then settled the tip of his sword against his throat. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” Jamie stated quietly.

Joffrey for once was silent, watching intently with his legs crossed while he reclined in the chair. She hoped Jon would give up the fight, there was no point in trying to fight now. They were already pass the point of no return.

Whatever transpired between Jamie and her brother ended as he put his sword away and Jon lifted himself off the ground. That didn’t stop Meryn from backhanding him with his armored hand, knocking Jon to the ground again.

Jamie hissed, “Was that really necessary?”

“Yes,” Meryn answered with a pleased smile as they both walked back to settle against the wall around their King.

Sansa glanced between all of them then ran around the bed to Jon’s side. He had a split lip now with a bruise forming on his right cheek. She helped him up to sit on the bed, looking over his wounds. It seemed he had thrown his head with the smack to avoid the metal armor from breaking his nose though she could see some redness and possible bruising, forming on the side of his nose.

“Yes, yes, looking over your husband’s wounds is sweet, but I’m here to see a consummation, so get on with it already! Or do you both need help out of what’s left of your clothes?” Joffrey threatened, looking rather bored by their display.

“Could you untie my corset, Jon?” Sansa asked quickly, turning her back before he could answer her question. He didn’t move for a moment but then she felt his fingers work at the ties and slowly, her suffocating corset was loosened to where she could breath much more deeply.

Sansa peered over to the men watching in the corner then with a confidence she did not feel, she let the constricting materiel drop down her body to the floor. She realized, at this point, that all three men watching them had already seen her breasts numerous times in the throne room during her public beatings. There was no point in trying to hide now. Quickly, she also shoved her smallclothes down her legs then turned to Jon to keep them from seeing more than a flash of hair on her mound.

Unfortunately for her brother, he got an eye full of everything upon her facing him. His eyes grew wide and his face grew redder upon seeing all of her naked before him. “Please undress, Jon,” Sansa pleaded quietly, moving pass him to get on the bed. She was surprised her voice didn’t quiver as she spoke.

The tension in the air was thick, almost sucking the air from her lungs as she tried to breath. The bed was soft underneath her hands and knees as she crawled to the center and laid down. She tried avoiding looking over at the men in the corner, doing so could possibly reduce her to more tears and Sansa truly wanted to avoid crying anymore than she already had. She did glance at Jon though.

He stood up slowly then worked on the loosened laces of his breeches before allowing them to drop down his legs then his smallclothes followed soon after. She turned her eyes away at the sight of his butt, her face becoming consumed by heat. He was naked now like her. Sansa’s heartbeat quicken like the flutter of a bird’s wings. This was really happening; they were really going to go through with this.

“Better give your cock a few yanks before you fuck her,” Joffrey offered from the corner.

Upon hearing his vulgar advice, Sansa couldn’t stop herself from peering over to Jon. He had hardly any hair on his chest, being only nine and ten but still considered a man grown. There was more hair though, once her eyes drifted down his strong shoulders and lean chest to his bellybutton where dark hair trailed down until her eyes stopped at his semi-erected cock. She watched as he took himself in hand, moving his hand up and down the length of his cock. She watched, speechless as it become stiff and stood on its own once his hand was removed.

This was her first encounter with that part of the male body. Sansa started to feel slightly faint as she saw how thick his cock was and the thought of him pushing that into her. It looked like it would hurt; painfully so.

Joffrey nodded in the corner of her vision then said, “Now be a good husband and fuck your wife bloody.”

Jon’s nose wrinkled up in disgust at Joffrey’s words. He crawled onto the bed though, maneuvering over top of her. He mumbled for her to move her legs apart then there was a struggle between them as they got situated until he was between her legs. Apprehension and fear started to swell heavily inside her as they prepared to consummate the marriage between them. His cock was touching the inside of her thigh, she could feel how soft his skin was there.

It was the strangest feeling she had ever felt before.

“Close your eyes and relax,” Jon said in the air between them. His arms held him up from her body, cradling her head between them while he leaned his lower half down until he was pressed against her. His cock lay snug in the seam between her thigh and hip. “Imagine your laying with Aemon the Dragonknight or Florian the Fool, imagine you wed the man of your dreams.”

Sansa closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. His deep voice was soothing, and she couldn’t remember why that was so new to her, had his voice always had such a quality to it? She wondered why it sadden her so much to realize she would never know that answer because she didn’t spend so much time with him before. His cock moved to touch the folds of her cunt then a grunt came from his lips, choked from his throat.

Without thinking too much about it, she told him, “Shae gave me oil to make it easier.”

“A-Alright,” Jon answered, his breath puffing out in an unstable way. She wondered what his face looked like, she wanted to peek, but he told her to close her eyes and relax, to think of another man who she always dreamed of, but somehow, it was harder to do than ever before.

Fear and anxiety were fighting a war inside her while her heart wanted to beat through her ribs and outside her body, and her stomach wrenched painfully as they prepared to sin. Even the air breathing into her lungs felt halted and stagnant as she tried to breath softly and slowly. No, she couldn’t bring up the image of another at this moment, all her thoughts were far too focused on Jon and what he was about to do.

There was some movement of his cock’s head touching her folds, spreading around the oil she rubbed down there until she felt a slight push at the entrance to her cunt. Sansa heard him say, “breath,” as her breath hitched at the gentle push. All she could hear so clearly was her heartbeat, Jon’s hard breathing, and her gasping breaths. He repeated to her to ‘breath’, so she took a deep breath and as she released it, he pushed into her.

A slightly painful pinch happened as he pushed his cock inside her along with a strange full feeling afterwards. Jon’s breaths came out more harshly than hers, but then she knew men were able to enjoy coupling from the very beginning. He stayed put once he was settled inside her, Sansa was relieved to be given a chance to try to even her breathing as the pain alleviated some.

A cough came from the corner causing them to stiffen. Sansa’s fingers gripped the bedding beneath them, trying to find something to hold her mind stable as she tried to comprehend that her maidenhead was gone, and it was her half-brother who had taken it. Conflicting feelings welled inside her chest as she knew it could have been far worse and yet, it still wasn’t good. Jon was her sibling and now they were in an act of sin against all gods, old and new.

As he allowed her time to adjust to the peculiarity of having something thick, warm and hard inside her, Sansa tried to think of the positives that she had realized earlier. It was unfortunate that no man would want her after this, but that meant no one could try to use her for her claim. Her maidenhead was taken by her brother, but he was being as gentle with her as humanly possible and that only endeared him more to her than ever before. He was also brave, courageous really to go through with such an act to protect her, and himself in turn, but he could have continued to fight like earlier. Finally, there was a possible chance she could escape here with Jon; the only man she could trust in this land of snakes.

A gasp escaped her lips when she felt his cock twitch inside her, a warm tingle rolled through her from it. “Sansa?” Jon mumbled.

She merely nodded to him, hoping he realized that he could continue the consummation. He did. She felt him pull out some, another feeling of strangeness came over her then he was pushing back in. There was still a dull ache, but it wasn’t nearly as painful as Sansa had always feared and anticipated it would be.

Jon moved at a slow pace, thrusting slow but steady. Little tingles of pleasure started to flow through her nerves from between her legs and through her fingers and toes. Sansa was still trying to picture the man of her dreams or even Aemon, or Florian, but all she could see in her mind was Jon. So much so, that she cracked her eyes open to see what he looked like.

His eyes were closed tightly, his mouth open to release his harsh exhales, and there was sweat starting to form on his brow. She noticed there was redness in his cheeks that offset the dark purplish color of his bruises. Her eyes drew down his body, between her swaying breasts until she could see his hips thrusting back and forth between her legs.

Curiously, she only felt half of the wrongness of this act between them. The other, shameful half of her was…enjoying it. Sansa quickly closed her eyes again, willing herself to imagine another man doing this, anyone but her brother! Yet, her mind was unyielding, focusing entirely on the images she had just seen earlier. It brought on more tingles of pleasure.

A tightly grunted groan came between Jon’s lips as his hips stuttered then came to a stop. Sansa opened her eyes, wondering why he stopped then realized that he had finished. He had spent his seed inside her.

Joffrey started to clap loudly.

“It wasn’t as entertaining as the play, but I enjoyed it, nevertheless. Alright, bastard, move so I can see her bloody thighs.”

Jon didn’t move though, he stayed right there with his cock softening inside her. Sansa opened her eyes and looked up at him, her brows coming down in confusion as he refused to move. Was he trying to save her from the humiliation? Sweet as the gesture was, it would only end in more violence, so she brought her hand up to cup his cheek.

“It’s okay, the sooner he sees, the sooner he’s gone.” His eyes dropped from staring at the headboard to her before he nodded slowly then pulled out of her, leaving an empty feeling behind before Joffrey was in front of the bed, gazing down at her.

“I’m a bit disappointed, not very bloody at all,” Joffrey scoffed with a pout on his lips. Meryn came over to look to which she clamped her thighs back together, it was bad enough she had the King looking, there was no need for his Kingsguard as well. Meryn frowned but said nothing. “Well he left a good amount of seed at the very least. I hope you both know that I expect to hear of a pregnancy in the next moon or two,” Joffrey stated, smirk widening across his mouth that mimicked the look Cersei had given them earlier before he turned to leave them be.

Jamie sent them a sympathetic smile as he closed the door behind them, leaving them both in silence. Hearing the click of the door shutting securely seemed to bring back all of the oxygen within the room. Sansa felt like she could properly breath for the first time since…before all of this, before Jon and the marriage was revealed to her.

Her eyes closed as she took in greedy sips of air and her heart started to settle within her chest as the whole ordeal was for all intents and purposes over. Upon shifting her legs, she felt the stickiness between them, and the glaring truth of her reality settled upon her chest once more.

“Did we really do this?” Sansa questioned softly, disbelief coloring each word while her tone held nothing but dread.

Jon shifted around beside her. “Yes,” he answered just as softly though his tone was devoid of emotion.

Hearing his answer, hearing the truth sent a harsh ache throughout her body and the stinging of tears made a sob release from her chest. She had tried to hard, so damn hard to not feel this way, to find the positives of their circumstance, but in the end, Sansa couldn’t hide from the truth any more than Jon could.

As tears upon tears leaked from her eyes and sobs wrecked and shook her body, Jon moved off the bed then she was covered securely with half of the blanket beneath her. Sansa curled up into a ball, crying into her knees and trying desperately to ignore the sticky, wetness between her thighs. She heard the door of their chambers open and close, and she was left alone.

It could have been minutes or hours that Sansa laid there, crying her heart out into her knees. It wasn’t just the marriage or the consummation of the marriage, but everything the last two days and honestly, the last year or so since she had arrived at King’s Landing and lost everything. It was like the dam holding back all of her emotions was finally breaking and now she was drowning in it.

So sucked up in her emotions and tears, Sansa didn’t hear the door open again. She only knew she wasn’t alone when she felt a soft hand pushing back her hair from her face. Opening her swollen eyes, she found Shae sitting on the bed next to her.

“How about a bath?” Shae asked softly, smiling warmly down at Sansa.

Upon sitting up, she noticed two maids pouring water into a tub in the opposite corner where Joffrey and his Kingsguard stood. Glancing back at that corner, she found Jon, fully dressed and staring off at the empty hearth. Had he gone to get Shae and them for a bath for her? The urge to cry more was there, but it was easing up especially after Jon’s thoughtful gesture.

Shae helped her up from the bed then she was helping her wipe the remains of the consummation before Sansa was sinking into the bath. The heat felt lovely and even more so when she dunked underneath the water to soothe her swollen eyes. As Shae washed her hair, Sansa couldn’t help but look over to Jon.

He stayed seated in the opposite corner, still staring off into space with an empty, bland expression upon his face. His eyes appeared lost. This was his form of crying, Sansa thought, closing himself off from everything and everyone. Jon was possibly evaluating the situation, trying to process the sin they had committed together. she was still trying herself, but the crying helped.

Once her bath was done, Shae helped her dress into a nightgown and into her new bed. It was far larger than the one before, back in her old chambers. Sansa glanced over to see Jon still standing there, staring off.

“My lord,” Shae called out, approaching him slowly. Jon turned to her, nodding his head before peering over to her. Sansa leaned back against the pillow behind her head, snuggling in as they stared at one another. “Would you require a bath?”

“No, I’m fine. I can take one in the morning,” Jon answered, trying and failing at a smile to Shae. She nodded, heading to the door before telling them that she’ll be back in the morning.

Jon walked over to a dress, pulling open drawers until he found clothes for him to change into. He didn’t bother to see if she was watching, just started to undress. Sansa noted he had pull on a different tunic, but his breeches were the ones that were practically torn from his body. Had he really gone out for Shae dressed like that?

A flush came over her and as Jon got settled on his side of the bed, she told, “Thank you, Jon. For getting Shae.”

“You’re welcome, Sansa.”

Jon blew out the candle near him as she did the one near her. It was slowly darkening outside, and the sounds of laughter could be heard from their window that overlooked the courtyard. Sansa pulled the covers up to her chin then turned on her side, his back facing her now.

She didn’t think she’d be able to fall asleep, not with the strange ache between her legs and the thoughts swirling around her mind. Everything was so confusing; it was rendering her to sleeplessness as Sansa tried to contemplate everything that had happened that day. The wedding, the kisses, the advice, and the consummation. Yet, the worse of it was analyzing the peculiar feelings she felt when she and Jon kissed and even the slivers of pleasure she felt during sex.

It was all very confusing and almost too dauting for her to comprehend.

The only thing that was comprehensible was the fact that they were wedded and bedded, and there was nothing that could change that…

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed the first chapter. I'm hoping to get the second done quickly enough where they will be more explorative smut between Jon and Sansa, and eventually leading to real romance between them as well. This will be just from Sansa's POV, fyi. 
> 
> I enjoyed writing Joffrey in this, that sadistic, psychopath can be fun to write at times, I suppose. Also the timeline is a bit different, I wasn't really trying to get the story lined up with canon all that much, but I'm sure no one will be too hard pressed about it. 
> 
> Anywho, please let me know whatcha think?! ^_~


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